


Prelude to Love in the Making

by abreakfrom_reality



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, angst with a side of fluff, post Festival of Valen, post royalty revelation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23978065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abreakfrom_reality/pseuds/abreakfrom_reality
Summary: Hot coffee may best be enjoyed late at night with a certain captain, especially when your world has been turned upside down.
Relationships: Calderon Lynch/Traveler
Kudos: 32





	Prelude to Love in the Making

Solange fumbled with the scrunchie around her wrist, having just pulled it from her hair. The twists hung loose, and with a sigh, she pulled the strands back into a low bun. She wasn't sure why she was standing in front of the captain's room, and she thought it was best not to dwell on it. Sure, Calderon still managed to get on her last nerve, and yes Solange always felt the need to get the last word in, but then she'd catch herself staring at his profile, mentally undressing him and realizing she couldn't help liking what's she saw. _You liked what you saw in Vexx_ , her thoughts betrayed her, and she ground her teeth, annoyed. The entire A6 crew had had the chance to turn her in, and except for Damon, none of them had been very fond of the idea.

Any lingering doubts Solange had disappeared when she raised her hand to knock on the door, and it slid up suddenly, revealing a surprised Calderon in nothing but boxers and a T-shirt that clung to his gorgeous form. Nothing was left to her imagination. This had been a mistake. "Solange?" Calderon asked, and she was torn between hightailing it back to her room or standing frozen in time, refusing to move or speak for fear of making an utter fool of herself. She did neither, summoning the little dignity she possessed —she _was_ a princess after all— and was pleased with how easily the lie fell from her lips.

“I’m making some coffee, and was wondering if you’d like some as well?” She even managed to hold his gaze, though a part of her prayed he’d decline, or send her away, anything but give her that smirk she’d come to love against her will and reply, “Alright, stowaway.”

She didn't even like coffee, the beverage too bitter for her sweet tooth, and she had fond memories of her eldest sister Nerissa pestering her for hogging the sweetener. The memories hurt just as much as the ache of their previous absence, and Solange felt the pinprick sensation of tears that would shed if she didn't get herself together. "Hey…" Solange heard the voice, hardly registered the container of powdered creamer in her tight grasp, a sorry substitute for sugar cubes. _She's dead. They're all dead, and I’m the only survivor._ The impact of the creamer hitting the floor was jarring enough to bring her back to her body, and she startled. Her borrowed socks were covered in white, and Solange could only stare blankly at the spill. She should sweep that up, lest Calderon commented on her being the type of royal who couldn't be bothered to clean up her own messes. No, she was much more liable to make them. Her murdered family was the prime example. Solange wasn't sure when Calderon had come over and pulled her into an awkward embrace. She registered his warmth, that fresh, soap and linen scent, and she gasped for air. How long had she been holding her breath?

“Solange, _look at me_ ," she heard Calderon say, but it was less a command and more of a plea. Confusion colored her world, and she titled up her head, glassy eyes staring up at sapphire ones. It had been enforced upon her at a young age that crying was beneath her, and so she blinked rapidly, hoping to rid her eyes of their excess moisture. And yet, a tear escaped. Just the one, trailing a lone path down her cheek. A second one followed, but Calderon's thumb caught it mid-journey, and she was too hollowed out to register embarrassment or any similar feeling. It was already pretty late, and if she could have gotten comfortable in her bed, she might have been sleeping instead. "It's okay to mourn them, Solange," Calderon whispered, but Solange shook her head, hardly registering the motion. "I...you don't…I've..." She was unable to form complete sentences, and frustration quickly replaced the numbness in her chest. "I'm so, fucking, _angry_ ," Solange finally bit out, glad to have something visceral to hold on to. She pulled out of Calderon's arms, leaving a powdery trail as she walked over to her empty mug. The coffee maker buzzed and sputtered, signaling the water was hot, but she made no movement to fill her mug. "The creamer," she remembered, but Calderon was a step ahead of her, taking her mug and filling it to the top. He'd even picked up the creamer and was adding a generous helping to her drink. Funny, she hadn't told him how much to add, but as she watched the liquid change until it took on a milky brown color, she found herself smiling as she wiped her face.

“I’ve watched you inhale straight sugar, so I figured…” Calderon explained, and Solange rolled her eyes, her cheeks flaming. It was an obvious dig to their time spent at the Festival of Valen. So what if she’d _really_ enjoyed the eclair? She'd done the nice thing and offered him a bite, which he quickly declined. And maybe she had eaten it in less than two bites, but it was a super small treat! She carefully took her mug from Calderon, ignoring the urge to snatch it back. 

“Maybe you’d be nicer if you indulged in a sugar rush now and then.”

"Oh? So what's your excuse?" Solange glared at him, watching as he refilled his own mug, his second cup, before lifting it to his lips to take a sip. She made a face, imagining how it must taste, and was about to comment on exactly that when Calderon cut her off. "Cursa isn't the place to wander off," he said, a slight edge to his voice that Solange couldn't miss. Still, she grinned, taking a sip of her coffee. It desperately needed sugar cubes. "I'll behave," Solange fluttered her eyebrows demurely, and when he blushed and quickly looked away, she couldn't help the thrill that ran down her spine. "I'm serious," he cleared his throat, glancing back at Solange, and she tried to decode the meaning behind his words. "So am I," Solange countered, more defensive than necessary, but he didn't budge. "I just needed some air, and I lost my head. I didn't mean to leave the club," Solange lied again, careful to leave out the way Vexx had appeared—a ghost from her past—and completely upended her world. Just because he was the first person to show her the slightest bit of attention. She couldn't afford to be stupid again. She could feel her resolve harden but then her gaze found Calderon's searching one, and it was almost too much. Her want to trust again was at war with her need to protect herself. Protect her heart.

She took another sip of her drink, wincing slightly at the bitter aftertaste. "So why are you still awake?" she asked, aware that the caffeine would keep _her_ awake with her thoughts well into the night. Calderon rubbed the back of his neck, staring down into his mug. "Couldn't sleep," he replied, and when it was obvious he didn't plan on elaborating, Solange didn't push. She needed to make her way back to her bed and put this night behind her, put the entire day behind her. Solange was afraid of what might slip through the cracks if she stood next to Calderon any longer. And yet…

She downed the rest of her coffee and placed the mug in the sink before glancing over her shoulder. The wasted creamer was still there, taunting her. "I've got it," Calderon said, looking at the mess. "No, it's fine. I'll do it," Solange argued. "Where are the cleaning supplies?" She scanned the kitchen area, eyes locking on a door she guessed was the closet. She could feel Calderon's eyes on her as she pulled out the broom and nearly everything else. The dustpan was for lack of another word, gross. But Solange sucked it up, determined to start fixing her mistakes, even if it was something as insignificant as this. When she'd gathered and scooped up the mess as best as she could, her eyes found Calderon's again, his expression greatly amused. "What? Never thought you'd see a princess do back-breaking labor?" Solange cocked an eyebrow, but her grin gave her away. "That hardly qualifies as back-breaking, stowaway," Calderon shook his head, but he bit back a smile himself. She dumped the contents into the garbage shoot, unsure what else to say and hesitant to leave the room.

She'd completely spaced out when Calderon held her earlier, and she could kick herself for it. "I'm gonna turn in now," Solange began, rubbing her arms. She'd bid him good night and hopefully tire herself out from over-thinking so she'd have no choice but to pass out. Except, her feet didn't move to exit the kitchen, and her lips were preoccupied with more important things than speaking. Solange found herself closing the distance between her and Calderon, replacing herself with the mug in his hands. "Sorry, but we got interrupted the last time," Solange reminded him as if this wasn't an excuse to kiss him good night. "I remember…" Calderon murmured as she drank in the sight. Blonde hair usually neat and tidy, now curled over his forehead. And those eyes? Solange hadn't realized how warm the color blue could be. She stood on tip-toes as he leaned down to meet her halfway. So much for protecting her heart. He put everything into that kiss, and Solange greedily took everything he gave, and then some. He tasted of espresso, and she realized that maybe she didn't mind the offending bean after all. Just when she thought he would pull back and leave her cold, the captain pulled her closer instead, lips ghosting the side of her jaw.

She could feel how much he wanted her, and the heat that pooled in her belly burned a few degrees warmer. She had to pull away, and she would, just as soon as she had one more kiss. “Cal,” she groaned, relishing in the way his grip on her waist tightened as if she’d flee otherwise. She grabbed his face, bringing him back to her lips, feeling him smile against her. Whatever pains her rediscovered past had brought upon her, at least she’d have good dreams tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> wow, I love these two.


End file.
